


Professional Work Environment

by Livisafish



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Christmas Party, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Inappropriate Humor, Kinda, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Teacher Simon Snow, Teacher Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, meet ugly, we'll see where this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28274673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livisafish/pseuds/Livisafish
Summary: "School is a professional environment and being new is not an excuse to ignore that fact. I assume you finished secondary, so the standard should be set, but based on your actions, which I have heard oh-so-much about today, I’m starting to doubt what I thought was obvious of a schoolteacher."---Baz is a 25-year-old English teacher at Watford Secondary with traditional views on the standards of education. Simon is a new phys ed teacher who completely challenges everything Baz stands for. After a disastrous first (and second) meeting, most would think their relationship would be irreparable. As students gossip and friends speculate, Baz and Simon grow their mutual dislike into something more through witty remarks shouted across hallways and gymnasiums and uncomfortable faculty get-togethers. How on earth is Baz supposed to maintain an air of professionalism with Simon Snow stumbling around every corner?
Relationships: Dev/Niall (Simon Snow), Penelope Bunce/Shepard, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 14
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Snow Paradox](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22223320) by [Ivrigasked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivrigasked/pseuds/Ivrigasked). 



> Firstly, big thanks to my sister for beta-ing my "dumpster fire" understanding of grammar and writing me a dope ass summary. Your kind words and absolute scrutiny of even my author's note is greatly appreciated :)  
> I've always been a sucker for teacher au's for no good reason (The Snow Paradox is without a doubt my comfort fic and more people should read it), so here's my take on one. It's not much like that story, but I was inspired by it and did base Mordelia off of their Mordelia. Here's to hoping I can actually manage to complete it. Also, I am American so I apologize for any inconsistencies.

# Baz

I never was a morning person. When my alarm started blaring at me this morning, I had half a mind to throw my phone across the room and return to the plush comfort of sleep and my mattress, but I knew (apart from the time I started trying to work out in the mornings—a mistake. I’d rather deal with the afternoon crowds) I would never start setting my alarm unless it was the start of term. Groaning, I roll onto my back and stretch my arms and legs out to the corners of my bed and force myself to sit up and get ready for work.  


I take a quick shower to help myself adjust to the morning and take my time with my hair. The air is still warm outside, so I decide to drop the jacket and settle for a deep maroon shirt with dark slacks and a matching tie with my shined oxfords. I peer at myself in the mirror and decide I am satisfied with my appearance for the first day. I stumble into my kitchen and quickly make myself some toast with jam and a cup of tea. I scroll on my phone as I eat and, when I finish, leave my flat after brushing my teeth, grabbing my bag, and taking one last glance in the mirror.  


I pull up to school about thirty minutes early. I love working at Watford Secondary, but the first day never gets easier. My mother, also an English instructor, taught here before me. I never got to see her in her element as a student—she passed when I was much too young—but being here still makes me think of her. It was only fitting that I came back to teach when I ultimately decided that was my passion (I thought my father was going to cry when I told him—he loved my mother fiercely and I think it was a lot for him to see me sharing her passions). I step out of my car and start walking towards the building, bag slung over my shoulder. I had only taken five steps before I hear my name.  


“Baz! Baz! Hey!” I turn and see my cousin, Dev, waving over his head and taking quick strides in my direction. Niall follows closely behind him, clearly more prepared to work today than Dev (at least Niall had his bag). I stop walking and wait for them to catch up.  


“If you think you can just lounge in my classroom this morning because you’re bored and you don’t want to show around the new phys ed staff, you’re wrong, Dev. I have actual work to do this morning,” I roll my eyes as I start walking again.  


Dev groans, “Come on, Baz. I already met him and he seems absurdly thick. I don’t want to spend my morning with him, and Niall already refused to let me loiter in his classroom because I’m a ‘distraction’, apparently.”  


“Well, one, Niall has a point, and he actually loves you, so what makes you think I want you loitering in my room? Two, I know you find him thick, but I have the same sentiment towards you, so maybe you’ll be friends.”  


“Baz, you haven’t met him—you’d understand if you met him. You know, I actually think he’d push your buttons more than mine. You’re needlessly posh, and he’s anything but. I have class, but I’m not uptight, and even I find him to be a bit much.” Niall snorts at Dev’s comment about class as he holds the door open for the both of us.  


“Regardless, you’ll have to make nice because my room is off limits. It seems this is where we part. Enjoy your first day the best you can. Ready, Niall?” He nods and the two of us split from Dev (he goes to the locker room where we head to the English department). “I still can’t believe, of all people, you’re choosing to marry him,” I grumble once Dev is out of earshot.  


Niall chuckles, “While Dev is brash, he’s a romantic. Plus, you and I both know we’re weak for idiots.” I scoff at that. “Right now, were looking to set the date some time in June. I think that would be lovely, and it’s right at the end of the school year.”  


“You know, the hardest part to believe about all of this is that Dev is getting married before I’ve even really had a relationship.” We stop outside my classroom.  


Niall chuckles and plasters his face with a cheeky grin. “That’s one way to put it, Baz.” I never should have told him I’ve yet to have my first kiss. I’m 25, for Christ’s sake!  


“Sod off,” I grumble. “Just because I have standards, unlike you, doesn’t mean you should mock me.”  


“And here I thought we were talking about Dev beating you to it, not me. Are you saying he has no standards?”  


“The longer we stand here having this conversation, the more I believe that, yes.” He laughs properly.  


“That’s enough teasing for today. If you need me, you know where to find me. I’ll see you for lunch?”  


I mumble a “yeah” as he walks around the corner to find his classroom before turning to the stale ambiance that I call my home three quarters of the year. I did a decent job of cleaning my classroom before leaving for summer hols, but it miraculously finds itself in a form of disarray. I shove desks back in line, push books back on the shelf, and wipe down all the surfaces. I turn on the dehumidifier and make myself a cup of coffee (tea deserves time to be enjoyed, and school gives me no time to sit back and revel, so coffee it is), filling it with milk and sugar to cut the bitter taste. Before I’m ready, the bell rings and my first period year 11’s stumble through my door with a mix of bored and wary expressions.  


Word has gotten around that I am an arse, according to Dev. I’m just professional. I don’t treat them as my friends because they are not, and I grade to give them what they earned, not to make myself look better. Apparently that’s harsh, but these children are going to be in college next year, so I do not wish to continue to deny them the honesty that comes with adulthood. Once the next bell rings, I make my way to the door, push it gently closed, and turn to face the audience subject to my rambling for the next two terms. “Good morning,” I say clearly, letting my eyes pass over each of them, stalling on a few (including my younger sister, Mordelia, who told me not to acknowledge her). “My name is Mr. Pitch. Welcome back to Watford; I hope you all enjoyed your summer holiday.” I pace my way over to the podium to the right of my desk. “I would like to go around the classroom and have each of you stand up and introduce yourself. Just say your name and something interesting about yourself. I can start—my name is Mr. Pitch and I played football in uni and coach it here at Watford.”  


The first student stands and looks at me, “My name is Priya Bunce and something interesting is that my sister teaches next door to you, Mr. Pitch.” Of course.  


“How lovely.”  


“My name is Mordelia Grimm and I am the eldest child,” she is staring me down. I figured she would do something like this, but it is rude regardless. No one would even guess we’re related; my mother was Egyptian and hers is very much not. I just smile and glance to the next student.  


“My name is Mathew Brady, and I am a swimmer.”  


“Darcy Clark… born in Wales.”  


“Willow Young.”  


“Brynn Johnson.”  


“Ophelia Hansen.”  


“Oh, I have a younger sister named Ophelia. You do not meet many,” I try with a gentle smile, attempting to be more conversational to ease their wariness of me. It works, I think, for the rest of the class, but Mordelia looks livid.  


After introductions, class starts with a short, timed essay and a review of their summer work. When the bell rings and they swap with my second period, I notice a clear change in the mood of some of the students. They are whispering amongst themselves, several flushed and giggling. I furrow my brow. I’m not one to eavesdrop, but a group of girls sitting by the window are not being as quiet as they think they are.  


“Did you see his thighs when he was showing us how to squat properly?”  


“No, I was too busy looking at his arse!”  


“He was so tan and blond—he looked like an American lifeguard or something.”  


“I wonder how old he is.”  


“I wonder if he’s married.”  


“I have a new favorite class.”  


“He was so cool, too! Letting us call him Simon!”  


“I’m so jealous, I wish I was in his class—I got stuck with Mr. Grimm!”  


Shit, they must be talking about the phys ed teacher that Dev despises so much. Dev never mentioned that he was apparently attractive, but that could have been because he would only be around me to complain when Niall was around. Wait, why is that what I’m focusing on in this conversation? There are about three fifteen- to sixteen-year-olds right now thirsting over a member of the staff, and the staff member himself is only encouraging it through his casual relationship with them. It’s vile. I step away from the door and to the front of their desks. “Ladies, please refrain from objectifying and gossiping about your instructor—it is unprofessional and unbecoming. How would you feel if someone were talking about you like this behind your back?”  


They fall silent as I look at them expectantly. When it becomes clear I am not going to get an answer, I make my way back to my door with a sigh. Penelope Bunce is also standing outside her door. She glances at me and smiles. “Welcome back! How was first period, Basil? You liking your classes so far?”  


I cross my arms and jut out a hip, leaning my head back towards my shoulder to look at her while I respond. “Welcome back to you as well. They were good—Priya is in it, as is Mordelia. The latter is probably going to be a pain, but it’ll be interesting enough. What about you, Bunce?”  


“Please call me Penelope or Penny, Basil. It’s been about as interesting as a first day can be. I have noticed that several of my students seem much more chipper second period than first,” she smirks, “I think I know why, too.”  


I roll my eyes, “Please, the students are not being subtle at all in their musings. I’ve already reprimanded a group for objectifying the new instructor.”  


Penelope laughs, “Children will never change, huh? Well, I’m going to step back in. It was nice speaking to you.”  


I nod at her before retreating as well. The rest of the class is normal, apart from the clearly boosted moods the students who have already taken phys ed that morning. The day crawls on until lunch, where I disappear into the nearest teachers’ center. Niall is already waiting at a table with Agatha Wellbelove (the lovely biology teacher who was forced into the English wing because of lack of science classrooms), prepping his thermos of soup and cracking open his bagged lunch. Agatha is prodding at her salad, clearly annoyed about something, quietly ranting to Niall. I pull out my chair and tune in to the conversation while we wait for Dev to arrive.  


“I honestly did not think I would ever see him again—he was never the brightest student. Like I said, we were together for about two years. I thought I knew him pretty well, so it’s very hard for me to believe this is the career he would go with. I guess he was always a pretty physical, short-tempered guy, so anything athletic makes sense, but why, of all places, did he choose to come to the school that I work at? What are the odds, honestly? The worst part is he’s been the only thing my students have been talking about all day, and I have a picture of us together on my desk from when we went to California because I look hot in the picture and remembering California is one of the only things that makes me happy. Of course, they see the picture, and we both look younger, so they grilled me about him non-stop. Every time I would try to redirect, they would just push me to talk about him more. I’m sure half the school knows that we were a thing at some point now, which is awful. He wasn’t even a good boyfriend—he was super inattentive and distracted all the time. In the two years we were together, we never did anything more than kiss! How boring.”  


I figured Agatha was talking about the phys ed teacher in the first few words that came out of her mouth, but the eye roll Dev gives as he slides into his seat just confirms my suspicions. “God, not you, too! Imagine what it’s been like working with him! It does not help that he insists on them calling him Simon because he ‘doesn’t want to feel old.’ I would understand if it was because he found his last name horrendous, Snow is an awfully odd surname, but the bloke is 25. Obviously people don’t think he’s old. He’s just encouraging an unprofessional work environment that is, in all honesty, slightly concerning. He needs to be careful or someone will talk about him to their parents and they’ll report him and get him fired, even if he isn’t doing anything wrong.”  


“Simon’s a sweet guy, but he has to learn boundaries. It honestly is a blessing that he’s attractive or the kids would walk all over him,” Agatha says around the fork she pushes into her mouth.  


Just as I open my mouth to respond, the door to the teacher center slams open with the force of someone who has no knowledge of the resistance of the door. We all turn to face the racket, and I feel my mouth go dry.  


Standing in the doorway is Penelope Bunce, which was to be expected, but what really catches my eye was the man standing in front of her. He is the most attractive bloke I have ever laid eyes on. Broad shoulders, tawny skin, slim waist, and thick thighs with defined calves. I feel the heat rise in my cheeks and am suddenly thankful that the natural reddish tone in my skin makes it hard to see my flush. He has wide blue eyes that were the most boring, average color of blue, but they draw me in nonetheless. He is stocky, with a square jaw, his lips parted slightly. There is a mop of golden curls atop his head that I have an urge to run my hands through and tug. He is speckled all over with moles and freckles like constellations—my eyes are drawn to the line of moles that flow up his long, showy neck onto his cheek. My heart stutters, and I realize I am staring. I turn back to the table quickly and try to regulate my breathing. That has to be Simon Snow (Dev is right, that is a weird surname. It makes him sound like the protagonist in a children’s novel. It’s mortifying how much I enjoy that revelation). I feel like I can finally understand the children’s fixation with him.  


“Shit, what is he doing here?” I hear Dev mumble.  


“He’s Penny’s best friend,” Agatha whispers, leaning in. “The three of us spent lots of time together in uni.”  


I suddenly feel the lurch of something awful in my stomach. “I’m going to call him out.”  


“What?” the rest of the table turns to me in shock—I am not a very confrontational person, at least not among my colleagues. In fact, it is extremely unlike me to make a scene, particularly in a work environment.  


I place my hand on the table and push out of my seat. My body is on autopilot as I approach him and Bunce—they have just taken their seats. I stop in front of their table and cross my arms, throwing him the most withering glare I can manage. I immediately see the effect of my gaze in his expression. “Who do you think you are?”  


“Excuse me? Who even are you?” Fuck, his voice is rough. The heat is back in my cheeks and across my shoulders. I narrow my gaze more as I glance him up and down in a cruel way. I know he’s a phys ed teacher, but he’s wearing rugby shorts that are all too tight around his thighs and a thin shirt. He squirms in his chair, flushing and glaring back at me.  


“Basilton Pitch, pleased to meet you,” I give him a tight, closed lip grin. “Firstly, what you’re wearing is hardly appropriate, even for phys ed. Secondly, you’re asking students to call you by your first name and are fueling their gossip. School is a professional environment and being new is not an excuse to ignore that fact. I assume you finished secondary, so the standard should be set, but based on your actions, which I have heard oh-so-much about today, I’m starting to doubt what I thought was obvious of a schoolteacher. You do realize you are making yourself predatory to the children their parents entrusted you to protect while they receive their education, right? Or are you too daft to even reflect on the repercussions of your actions? These children are not your friends, so don’t make them think they are. Your actions this morning reflect poorly on us all, so I suggest you reflect on the purpose of professionalism and reevaluate your conduct.”  


“That’s—that’s not-! I-I was just! I’ve seen—I was told it was okay. Davy said that—”  


I bark a cruel laugh at that. “Davy? You’re on a first name basis with the headmaster? And ‘Davy’ has always been shitting on the professionalism and pride that is found in buildings of education. I wouldn’t listen too hard to what he has to say. He tried to get staff to wear jeans to work!”  


Snow’s face is bright red and people are staring. “Shut the hell up, prick!” he shouts, slamming his hands down on the table and leaves the room fuming. Bunce collects his lunch, rolls her eyes at me, and follows him out, presumably to calm him down. The room falls into an uncomfortable silence, and I feel my skin prickle with embarrassment as I return to my seat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late coming out and also not beta read--my sister's computer decided to give her a giant middle finger before practically blowing up every time she opened it. I apologize for my absolutely horrendous grammar. I hope you enjoy it regardless :)

# Simon

To say I was nervous this morning was an understatement. I barely slept at all last night, and as the sun peaked through the flowing curtains that covered my open window, I had a rock of dread nestled in the pit of my stomach. I got up and shut off my alarm before it even went off and wondered around my quiet flat. I made myself and Penny a cup of tea and broke back into the curry we got last night—she made sure to order extra just incase I needed something comforting in the morning. I heard her alarm go off as I showered and she was sipping it appreciatively when I rejoined her on the couch, toothbrush hanging out of my mouth.

“Feeling alright?”

I snorted.

“You’ll love it, I promise. You love working with kids. You get to be active. You get to be with me all day.” She leaned into me with a smile at that last point.

My words slurred around my toothbrush, “That is true.”

“You’re going to be a great teacher, Si.”

I left to go rinse my mouth and get properly dressed for school. Davy told me just to wear what I would wear to the gym and that he would let me know when rugby was starting so I could wear the team gear they provided to the coach. The problem was, I didn’t have much that wasn’t much to ratty to be presentable at school. I have some rugby shorts that Penny got me for Christmas last year, but they’re a size too small. Unfortunately, its either them or the long, much too warm trackies. I go with the rugby shorts and the only athletic shirt I have that doesn’t have a hole in it. I peer at myself in the mirror. I look a little silly, but not obscene, so I wonder back out after shoving my feet into my trainers. “Penny? Does this look okay?”

“It looks fine to me, Si. Don’t fret.”

The two of us walk to school—her with a binder full of papers and me with a gym bag slung over my shoulder. We are truly an interesting pair, especially considering she is wearing a nice dress and sandals. Once we enter the school, Penny gives me a tight hug and some words of encouragement before going towards the English wing. I make my way to the locker room and set my bag down at my desk. There are nerves bubbling in my stomach, so I sit down and hunch over to try and steady my breathing. Suddenly, the door opens and Dev Grimm brushes past me.

“Hey, Simon. Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” I mumble sitting back up and running my hand through my curls.

Dev plops down in his desk chair and groans loudly. He pulls out his phone and starts scrolling and I turn back around to be left in my thoughts and to try and swallow down the nerves. The bell soon rang, and boys started filing into the locker room to get dressed in their gym kits. Dev gave my chair a kick as he stood up to head towards the gymnasium.

He didn’t talk to me and I could feel myself growing more uncomfortable. Eventually Dev blew a whistle and children began to gather around.

“If you’re in Mr. Snow’s class, make your way over to the far bleachers and if you’re with Mr. Grimm, stay here and take a seat on the floor,” Dev shouted before leaning towards me and whispering, “head over to the bleachers, do roll call, and then lead them to the weight room to show them some basics. I’ll be there too to go through it with you.”

I nod and jog down the other end of the gym holding my clipboard in the air. Children take their seats and I scan the group trying to smile and suppress my nausea. “Good morning everyone. My name is Mr. Snow, but I’d rather you just called me Simon. It’s my first day, so I’m sorry if I get a little lost, I promise I’ll get the hang of things,” glancing around again, most of the kids seemed pretty attentive so I flashed them a genuine smile, feeling my confidence building. “Alright, I’m going to quickly go through roll and then we’re going to head to the weight room with Mr. Grimm’s class.”

After I finished with roll, I noticed one of the boys in the back with his hand raised. I think his name is Tyler, “Tyler. Question?”

“Uh, yeah, Mr. Sn—er, Simon. Did you play a sport at uni or something? You’re jacked!”

I felt my face and back flush at the question and gave a sheepish grin, “Yes, I did. I played rugby. I was pretty decent, too!” There was a lot of muttering before another student raised her hand, “Anna?”

“When did you graduate from uni, Simon?”

“Well, I’m 25, so four years ago now?”

“Are you married?” That got me to blush much more vibrantly.

“I think that’s enough for now. Let’s head to the weight room.”

Dev and his class are waiting for us when I walk in. His class is sitting in a large semi-circle around a bench he was sitting on and he gestures me to join him. “Alright, everyone in Mr. Snow’s class, please find a spot on the floor and pay attention. We’re going to go through some basics on form before we get started. Don’t worry, we won’t be doing much today, this is just to make sure no one gets hurt, so please pay attention. I’m going to show you the proper form for a bench press.” Dev laid back on the bench and I walked around to stand behind him. “Mr. Snow is going to spot me to make sure I don’t hurt myself because I can’t get the bar up.” Dev grabs the barbell and does one smooth rep while explaining the importance of scapular retraction and planting your feet flat on the floor. I follow his movement with my hands before he racks the bar and sits up. “Mr. Snow will now demonstrate proper form for a squat.” Dev dragged the bench out of the way and I hoisted the bar to the proper height and leaning back against it.

“Okay, so for a squat you’re still going to want to have a spotter,” once Dev was behind me, I unracked the bar. “You want to have your feet shoulder width apart and you want to go down until your quads are parallel with the ground.” I squatted down and held at the bottom and heard giggling from the crowd. I flushed lightly, “So, as you can see, my legs are parallel, and my knees aren’t over my feet. From here, you want to stand back up—make sure not to lock your knees,” I finish, “Any questions?” A girl raises her hand, “Delany?”

“Can you show us another example, Simon? I didn’t quite get what you meant with your feet.”

“Yeah no problem!”

“Simon?” I look over at Dev, who is looking harshly at Delany, “His name is Mr. Snow.”

I laugh lightly, “Oh, no, I told them to call me Simon. Mr. Snow makes me feel much older than I am! They aren’t much younger than us.” Dev looks back at me like I spit in his tea before shaking his head in exasperation.

“About that squat…”

The rest of the block went much smoother: students kept calling me over to help them with their form when they were confused and they kept laughing at my, admittedly poor, jokes. By the end of class I was not only on a high from the physical exercise, but from how relieved I was that the students liked me well. I couldn’t shake the smile from my face as we walked back to the gym. Dev didn’t seem much too pleased with me, but I think it could’ve been due to the fact that none of the students called him over to work with him.

When we got back to the office I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Penny.

P: ** _Hope you’re having a wonderful first day, Si! I will be down to pick you up so we can have lunch together if you’d like and you can tell me all about how your day has gone so far! :)_**

I grinned as I quickly responded.

S: **u to pen! sounds good! see u then! :)**

The rest of the day went by much faster now that I shook off my nerves. Most of my students seem super excited and engaged with me, which is better than I was expecting considering the treatment Dev is getting. It appears to be bothering him quite a lot, and I honestly feel bad, but Dev has been kind of a dick to me all morning, so I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel smug. When our lunch break hits, Dev barely mumbles a goodbye as he slips out of the office and I grab my lunch while I wait for Penny. I’m scrolling through emails when I hear her knock and I quickly jump up to join her.

“So?” She smiles, knocking into my shoulder.”

I grin back, “It’s been pretty great, actually. I haven’t been this happy since I graduated from uni.”

“That’s awesome, Si! I knew you’d love it here—you’re great with kids and you get to do what you love the most. Plus, you get to see me whenever you need because I’m about a two-minute walk away.”

“That is a pretty big plus, yeah. Ebb’s was great, but I didn’t have my daily dose of Pen on demand.”

Penny guides us around a corner and to the door of the teacher’s center. I go to open the door, expecting it to be weighted like the door to the gym and the locker room, but there was never any resistance, so the door slams open and the room goes silent. All eyes in the room fall on me. I can feel myself getting embarrassed before I brush it off and walk forward to grab a table. I see Dev sitting at a table with Agatha (I knew she worked here, but I had yet to say anything to her), a shorter man with vibrant orange hair who had even more freckles than me, and an objectively extremely attractive man. He was staring back at me (granted, they all were), but it didn’t stop my heart from skipping a beat. Penny plopped down in her seat and I joined her and took out my thermos.

“Is it just me, or does it feel like everyone in here is staring at me?” I whispered to Penny.

“They are, but I think it’s probably because you slammed the door open. What a way to make an entrance,” she said with a giggle and I slapped her arm.

“Enough of that. I’m starving and nothing could keep me away from lunch.”

“Who do you think you are?” comes a posh voice to my right. I glance up and see the very attractive man who was sitting at Dev’s table. He had his arms crossed, a hip popped, and the nastiest glare I had ever seen, which was a feat in itself. His clothes looked like they cost more than my entire month’s rent and hugged him in all the right places. There was something about him that made me irrationally angry, and I felt my anger boiling up under my skin.

“Excuse me? Who even are you?” I growl at him. He looks briefly taken aback before his eyes narrow further and his eyes trace me up and down with a sneer and then scoffs. I squirm under his gaze and grow red in mortification. If this prick thinks he’s better than me just because he has stupid, posh clothes, he’s got something else coming for him. I glare back.

“Basilton Pitch,” he’s even got a posh name, “pleased to meet you,” he grimaces at me. “For one, what you’re wearing is hardly appropriate, even for phys ed. Secondly, you’re asking students to call you by your first name,” how does he even know about that? “and are fueling their musings of you—school is a professional environment and being new is not an excuse to ignore that fact. I assume you finished secondary, so the standard should be set, but based on your actions which I have heard oh so much about today, I’m starting to doubt what I thought was obvious of a school teacher,” if I wasn’t pissed before, I certainly was now. I don’t know who this Basilton asshole thinks he is, but he needs to get himself in check. “You do realize you are making yourself predatory to the children their parents entrusted you to protect while they received their education, right? Or are you too daft to even reflect on the repercussions of your actions? These children are not your friends, so don’t make them think they are. Your actions this morning reflect poorly on us all, so I suggest you reflect on the purpose of professionalism and reevaluate your conduct.” At that, I find myself both infuriated and mortified. I didn’t think that was the image I was giving off at all. I couldn’t help my clothes, and I had plenty of teachers who I called by their first name when I was coming up. Accusing me of preying on my students? Who is this dick?

“That’s—that’s not-! I-I was just! I’ve seen—I was told it was okay. Davy said that—” He laughs, sharp and cruel. It makes me shiver.

“Davy? You’re on a first name basis with the headmaster? And ‘Davy’ has always been shitting on the professionalism and pride that is found in buildings of education, I wouldn’t listen too hard to what he has to say. He tried to get staff to wear jeans to work!”

I flush red, more from anger than embarrassment, “Shut the hell up, prick!” I shout, slamming my hands on the table and standing. I give him one last glare before I stomp out of the room and collapse against the wall just outside. It probably isn’t a good idea, but I have nowhere else to go where there won’t be a much larger chance for a student to run into me. I want to punch something. I want to punch Basilton specifically, but I know I won’t get away with that. I settle for the floor just as Penny leaves the teacher’s center with both our lunches.

“Don’t mind Basil. I don’t know what got him worked up like that, he’s normally sweet, if a little stuck up.”

I scoff, “A little? He thinks that just because he can afford to dress well I can too? I just want to be a friendly face for these kids, someone who they can feel comfortable coming to because I never had that. Why does what I’m wearing change what my intentions appear to be so much? I’d wear something nicer if I could; you know that! I don’t even think what I’m wearing is that obscene unless you’re looking for a reason to make it so.”

“I know, Simon, I know. Basil is…” she glances behind her at the door before facing me with a grimace, “well, Basil is a bit… posh? He’s very serious about his job and his appearance and his reputation. He’s always been that way. I don’t think it’s anything against you specifically, he’s probably just having a rubbish day.”

I laughed lightly, “A rubbish day is now an excuse to yell at me with no provoking?”

Penelope shrugged, “Not an excuse, just an explanation. Basil is professional, so I’d expect him to apologize, hopefully tomorrow,” she joins me on the ground, disregarding the fact that the floor was disgusting, and I was getting this weird, white dust all over my ass. My heart swells with appreciation for her and she puts my lunch between us, “If Basil’s plan was to force you to be more professional, he failed because we’re about to enjoy our lunch on the floor in the hallway for any student to walk past us and I can’t say I care.”

I pick up my lunch and bump into her shoulder with mine, a smile on my face, “You always know just what to say, Pen.”

We continue to eat in the hallway, chatting back and forth with one another. When Basil exited the teacher’s center, he eyed me up and down before sneering and stalking off down the hall. _Stalking_. I looked towards Penny with wide eyes and she was looking to Basil with a confused expression before turning towards me. “I have no clue why he’s acting like such an arse today. He’s my neighbor and I’ve never had him act that way towards me. We may need to have a chat after lunch today.”

“I honestly don’t think talking to him will do anything. He seems like a twat, but if you think it’ll help, I trust you.”

Penny smiles lightly, “Alright, Si. I’d best be off. As much as I don’t mind my fellow faculty seeing me eat my lunch on the floor, if a student or two saw me on the ground, I don’t think the professional persona of ‘Ms. Bunce’ will ever recover.”

As she stands, I give her a laugh, “Pen, I would say I that I agree; however, I think that you could scare any child back into respecting you. You’re terrifying, no offence.”

“None taken. I’ll shoot you a text regarding what he says. Don’t stew on the floor for too terribly long. Lunch is over in a few minutes and I don’t want you to fuel Basil’s fire. You’re not nearly as intimidating.”

I give her a thumbs up as she walks off and leave her with a gentle reminder to, “Brush off your arse!” because of the weird white dust. She holds up two fingers behind her back and I snort before I stand and wipe off my own backside.

I find my way back to the gymnasium and my office. Dev is sitting back on his chair, scrolling on his phone, ignoring me as I walked in. “’Lo,” I mumbled to him as I took my own seat.

Dev glances up at me and grimaces harshly before glancing back down. I feel a sudden tug in my stomach and the weight of a question on my tongue.

“Hey, I saw you were sitting with Basil at lunch today. Do you have any idea why he would snap at me like that?” Dev freezes in his seat and I feel bitterness building at his lack of response and with that came anger, “You had something to do with that row during lunch, didn’t you?” I don’t mask the accusation in my voice or the anger bubbling up in my gut.

He places his phone down and turns his chair to look at me, “Look—Baz is my cousin, I’m allowed to tell him about my life. He’s the one who forms his own opinion and his actions because of it and takes his own actions. I didn’t tell him to do anything.”

I probably shouldn’t be angry at him. He’s right, it wasn’t his fault, but there was something about Baz that just managed to hit all of my insecurities and made me put my worst foot forward when it came to times when I have been forced to confront my personal shortcomings. I slam my hands down on my desk, “That’s horse shit and you know it! He wouldn’t have even said anything if he didn’t get all of his information from your apparently shit opinion of me!” Penny would be proud that I got that all out in one statement, though I doubt she’d feel the same about the subject matter, “Tell him to lay off,” I grumble before snatching my clipboard and exiting the office and trying to slow my breath. My face always gets splotchy and red when I get emotional, and anger is no exception. I walk to the faculty toilets and wash my face to try and cool down. My pocket vibrates with a text from Penny.

P: **_He said he’d talk to you in his classroom if you really want to after school._**

I glare at my phone (not at Penny—at the thought of seeing Baz’s posh, snide face again and dealing with his god-complex) and punch out a response.

S: **ill be there**


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW warning for some blood in this chapter. It's also not beta-ed so I hope it's not too painful to read :)

# Baz

The shame I felt at Snow storming out of the room and Bunce’s exasperated expression and response simmers under my skin long after they’re gone. My face feels hot, my hands are clammy even after I leave the teacher’s center. I feel a ball drop in my stomach when I see the pair laughing on the floor just outside of the door. The _floor_. I can’t keep my eyes from observing the repulsive scene or stop the sneer that breaks onto my face as a result. I’m more unnerved at myself that I find his picnic charming, of all things.

To say Bunce confronting my room as we waited between class changes was inevitable would be an understatement. I genuinely like Bunce—she’s a great partner to bounce ideas for curriculum off of and we’ve gotten into a fair number of deep discussions on our course material. She gives Niall a run for his money when it comes to my favorite colleague in my department (or in general, Dev is overrated and I outgrew his antics when I was 16. I am now an unwilling participant in his exaggerated persona, but I’d be lying to say he didn’t always manage to cheer me up when I was at my lowest), and I nearly prefer to work directly with her as opposed to Niall during department meetings.

“Basil,” she says, eyeing me over her unfashionable cat eyed lenses.

“Yes?” I say barely sparing her a glance. She doesn’t seem amused, but I find her frustration horribly entertaining—it’s a disturbed side effect of my own self-destructive nature.

“I would like to preface by telling you I have a large respect for you, and I do not wish to start any disagreements larger than necessary, but your display, if you could call it that, in the teacher’s center is something you should address. I know Simon would like to talk with you to resolve things, if possible. I can text him if you’re willing to meet up after class today.”

I stall slightly. I’m still embarrassed by my outburst and Bunce is now presenting me with the opportunity to properly apologize for my behavior, though I still stand behind my statements about his unprofessionalism. “If he wants to talk, I will be in my classroom. He can drop by.” Sure, I was the one who instigated the conflict, but I may as well make Snow come to me. The thought makes me giddy, which is honestly a concerning revelation as well.

Bunce sighs, “I’ll send him a text, then. I’ll see you later, Basil.” She turns back into her classroom and I linger for slightly longer outside of the classroom, leaning against the wall. I try not to let my mind drift into thoughts of Snow—I had only just met him, yet there was something about him that stuck inside my head. I returned to my classroom at the ring of the bell and try to make it through the rest of the first day with the majority of my students fawning over the new phys ed teacher who was cool, young, and absurdly fit.

By the time the final bell rang, I was drained. I did a quick run through my classroom with a Clorox wipe and organized the stray essays on my desk. Snow appears in my doorway and knocks on the frame while I’m packing my bag with my essay folder. I force my eyes to drawl lazily over him, trying not to linger on his absurdly attractive thighs. I have a brief thought of suffocating between those thighs and glace away abruptly—that was much too disturbed considering the situation. “Are you just going to linger or are you actually going to come in?”

Snow goes a bit pink in the ears before he steps inside, “I was trying to be professional and wait for you to invite me inside, considering how much you whine about it. Would you like me to close the door?”

I roll my eyes, “Snow, this is a school building, just come in. Yes, close the door.” He closes the door quickly before striding over and leaning back against one of the desks I just wiped down. I scoff. His face goes splotchy. “So… you wanted to talk to me because?”

Snow lets out a growl, “Listen, Baz, we—”

“Baz?”

“Yeah, that’s what Dev called you earlier.”

“I introduced myself as Basilton.”

“I like Baz better—it makes you sound less like a prick. Though, I guess that means that Basilton suits you better.”

I cock my hip to the side and cross my arms, “It doesn’t matter what you like better, it matters what my preference is.”

“Baz it is, then.” Snow’s blatant disregard for my wishes triggers that disturbed part of me that is attracted to his belligerence. Am I a masochist? Probably.

“How pleasant of you. Sorry to interrupt—continue.”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that you don’t know anything about me and it was a real prick move what you said today and you should apologize,” he shoves a hand into his hair and tugs at his curls. My eyes trace the movement. His expression is stern. It’s very bold of him to barge in and demand an apology, though it is warranted. I sneer.

“Well, Snow,” I draw, “I will say that my words are a bit harsh earlier today, but I do still stand by the principle. I apologize for the outburst but not for the message.” I drag my eyes back over him.

# Simon

I don’t know why the air feels so thick right now as Baz stares me up and down from across the room. There is a palpable tension in the air between us that I can’t place my finger on. Baz’s response isn’t what I was looking for, but I guess there’s no way he can really understand why I feel the way I feel or act the way I act without having to explain personal details with him that I do not want to share.

“Look, Baz—I don’t want to fight. We, uh, we just met today, yeah? I don’t really want to start off on the wrong foot. We can forget about lunch, as long as you don’t bring up that stuff again, we could even be friends,” I tug at my curls again. It’s a nervous tick. Baz looks down his nose at me, making me feel small. Though his expression is unbelievably attractive, I feel the need to push out my chest and give myself a bigger presence.

Baz laughs lightly, “I told you I stand by the principle of what I said, Snow. The way you’re presenting yourself is unseemly for an educational environment. I won’t confront you like I did today, but don’t expect me not to make comments if I see you blatantly disregarding the appropriate atmosphere for an educational environment.” His eyes scan me again. I feel hot.

I scowl at him, “You keep coming at me for being unprofessional, but what about you? You’ve been a prick to me all day and I just met you! I did nothing to you! Your clothes are unnecessarily posh. You think you’re better than everyone else for no reason and you’re just mad that your students think you’re a twat!” I’m fuming, no longer leaning against the desk—the tug in my hair has turned into a near rip.

I can tell I took Baz by surprise by the look on his face that is anything other than the indifference that I’ve seen in the past. He quickly schools his features, “Really, Snow? The only thing you could manage to attack is my professional appearance and professional relationship with my students? Did you even give a thought to those are the things I value?”

“I’ll show you fucking professional,” I growl before pulling back my fist and connecting it harshly against his perfect nose—it pisses me off. There’s a loud crack and my knuckles are covered in red. My blood runs cold.

# Baz

I can’t say I was expecting the punch. I was being antagonistic, but I thought physical violence was beyond us, as adults (though I’m starting to doubt that claim on Snow’s behalf. What the hell?). My hands fly up to my face with the sharp pain that spreads through my sinuses. They feel wet. When I pull my hands back they are covered in blood. It’s thick and seeping into the cuff of my shirt—thank god it’s dark, or the blood would be impossible to get out. I can’t stop the squeak or the words as they spill out of my mouth, “What the _fuck_ , Snow?” I shoot him the best glare I can manage with an absurd amount of blood not just spouting from my nose, but also painting my face. I’m sure I look like a berk, but I can’t bring myself to care enough right now. “You broke my nose!”

In Snow’s defense, he looks just as stunned by his actions as I was. He’s openly gaping at me—his bloody knuckles clenched at his side tight. “Fuck, Baz—shit, I… I didn’t mean to—shit, I— _fuck_ -!” He brings his fucking bloody hand to his curls and yanks (he’s going to be completely bald if he keeps that habit up, which would be a shame).

“Shut the fuck up, you cretin!” I turn and grab a wad of tissues from the box off my desk and try to stem the gush of blood that’s slowly choking me.

“Baz, shit, I—fuck, I assaulted you! I’m going to lose my job, and I’ve only just got here...” He mumbles that last sentence like it was solely for his ears. Too bad I heard it anyway.

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about! Losing your job, not the fact that you just smashed my nose with your fist and it’ll probably be permanently crooked!” My voice is getting thicker, “I wouldn’t ask unless I had no other option because I really don’t want you to fuck up anything more, but do you think you could drive me to the ER? I don’t think I can drive right now if I tried and, considering this whole mess is your fault, I don’t think I should pay for an uber.”

“I—I walked. I don’t have a car.”

I groan and resist the urge to slam my head against the wall. “Can you see if Dev is still in the gym? If he is, tell him I’m in Niall’s room. I’ll get them to give me a ride. Don’t mention anything about this—just say I need to see him.”

“Oh—okay,” he stutters before sprinting out of the room.

“Don’t bother coming back to check on me!” I shout as he leaves. Pissed off as I may be, I don’t plan on getting Snow fired for breaking my nose. I could use it against him very easily, but the fondness I feel towards him restrains me from releasing the forces of hell on him for permanently damaging both my face and my profile (my face was always extremely symmetric. I don’t think a crooked nose will be very alluring on me). My masochism has taken a whole new level of deprecating and, honestly, my depraved display is depressing. Yet, I can’t help the giddy feeling low in my gut— _He touched me!_ —how pathetic?

I stumble down the hall to Niall’s classroom, plugging my nose to the best of my ability. I’m sure Snow will tell Bunce everything either way, but seeing a trail of blood leading from my classroom down to Niall’s before getting an explanation would be more than a little concerning, and Bunce is not afraid of barging in to other’s personal affairs. Once I arrive and Niall initially frets over me, I sit in a student’s desk and try to feel less faint than I currently do. I wonder when Dev will get here?

# Simon

Fuck.

Fuck!

_Fuck!_

My feet are carrying me down the hall faster than I thought they could, honestly. My heart is beating erratically in my chest and I just want to make sure Baz is okay. I already know I’m going to lose my job (Penny will be disappointed, but I’ll probably hold the record for their shortest employed staff, which will be something). I slam into the gym office and Dev is scrolling on his phone. Why is he always scrolling on his phone, doesn’t he have anything better to do? Seeing his face is starting to piss me off as well, but I swallow down the anger in the name of hopefully not being fired and getting Baz to the ER before he bleeds out in the English wing.

“Dev.”

He slowly drags his eyes off his phone and up to my face. Now that I know him and Baz are related, the resemblance in their attitude in uncanny. It’s unbelievingly aggravating. “Yes?”

“Baz needs you right now. Bring your stuff. He’s in Niall’s classroom.”

I see fear flash across his face quickly. I guess I could’ve phrased that better, but it’s just fucking Dev, and, like I’d already mentioned, he’d been a prick all day. I doubt he’s actually too bothered. He gets up with just his mobile and his keys and is out of the office. The silence after he’s gone is sticky and I feel like I’m suffocating. I wish I could’ve gone to make sure Baz was alright at the hospital, but I guess I don’t have any right saying that considering I’m the one who caused the need for his visit. I fish out my mobile for something to do and shoot Penny a quick text.

S: **hey pen. i finsihed my talk with baz and am in my office when u want to go home**

P: **_I’m just finishing up—be there in a few!_**

I sit and wait. My heart is beating in my throat, and I almost feel like I’m going to be sick. I shuffle through some of the unorganized drawers in my desk and pull out a mint aero to snack on to help calm myself down. I wish I had Baz’s number to text him to see if he was alright. I’m halfway through my second chocolate when I hear the door open and look up to see Penny. She doesn’t look unhappy, which must mean she doesn’t know about Baz yet (I’m honestly surprised. Even if she didn’t see him, she must have heard us—the walls are aggravatingly thin. Maybe she was out using the copier? I didn’t bother to stop by and check before seeing Baz).

“Hey, Si. Ready?”

“Yeah,” I grumble. The nausea comes back with a force when I stand. I sling my gym bag over my shoulder, and she gives me a concerned look (I’m never able to keep any secrets from her, and that’s exactly why).

“Alright, Simon? You see a bit off. Did the talk with Basil not go well? He doesn’t seem the type to be oblivious of his actions.”

I rub the back of my neck as we start our walk home, “Well, you could say that, but it’s more my fault it went poor than Baz’s.”

She looks a little confused with my use of the nickname, but doesn’t address it. Her face changes and she raises an eyebrow at me, “What did you do?”

“Er… I may have punched him?”

She stops and snaps her face to look me dead on. I think I may be shaking, “You _what_?”

“I punched him? His nose may also be broken?”

“Simon, I thought you were going to be the bigger person!” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “You mean to tell me that’s Basil’s blood on your knuckles?” Shit, I forgot about that. I jump a little and glance at my knuckle. The blood has been smeared a little and rubbed in (I probably shouldn’t have tugged at my hair, but it’s a nervous habit and I’ve been nervous all day). She takes my lack of response as a yes. “Simon, you know you just assaulted your coworker, right? That’s illegal!”

I suppose I did forget about that minor detail. I was more focused on if Baz was alright and that I was definitely going to lose my job to think about the fact that I could get into some real trouble. Baz would be the type to pursue legal action too, the posh git. Suddenly my panic rises and I’m blubbering and ripping at my hair, “Fuck, I—I didn’t—i-it was-! I didn’t mean-!”

Penny places her hand firmly on my shoulders, “Breath, Si. It’ll be okay. Let’s just get back home and we can talk about it. There’s nothing you can do about it now, and I doubt Basil will try to get you in trouble.”

“You say that now, but he seemed all too peachy on the idea of getting me in trouble at lunch today. Do you have any friends in law?”

“Don’t worry about it, Simon. I’m sure it’ll work itself out, just don’t do it again. If Basil wasn’t talking about pressing charges after you punched him, I’m sure you’re alright.”

I spend the rest of our walk home trying to steady my breathing and hoping that Baz is alright. When we get into the house Penny puts on a kettle and tells me she’ll order us takeout. I should probably just take a shower. I stumble into the bathroom and turn up the heat all the way. It’s scalding by the time I step in. I feel like I need to scrub off all the bad that happened today. The hot water helps. I sit down. I let it hit my back steadily and rub my skin raw with my loofa. By the time I’m out, my tea is near cold, and Penny heats it back up for me.

“I would call Basil tonight to see how he’s feeling and to ask if we can help, but I doubt he wants to hear from me and the decision on where to go now is entirely his own.” Penny sits down next to me on the couch. She’s changed into much more comfortable clothes. I’m jealous. “We’ll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings and you have to promise never to do that again. I know you think with your fist, but this is a—”

I drown her out.

I’m so tired.

I close my eyes.

She’s still talking.


End file.
